erage, both in quantity
and quality; the essential goodness of country fare was wanting, and
in point of quantity the portions were cut with so strict an eye to
business that they savored of short commons. In such small matters Paris
does not show its best side to travelers of moderate fortune. Lucien
waited till the meal was over. Some change had come over Louise, he
thought, but he could not explain it.

And a change had, in fact, taken place. Events had occurred while he
slept; for reflection is an event in our inner history, and Mme. de
Bargeton had been reflecting.

About two o'clock that afternoon, Sixte du Chatelet made his appearance
in the Rue de l'Echelle and asked for Albertine. The sleeping damsel
was roused, and to her he expressed his wish to speak with her mistress.
Mme. de Bargeton had scarcely time to dress before he came back again.
The unaccountable apparition of M. du Chatelet roused the lady's
curiosity, for she had kept her journey a profound secret, as she
thought. At three o'clock the visitor was admitted.

"I have risked a reprimand from headquarters to follow you," he said, as
he greeted her; "I foresaw coming events. But if I lose my post for it,
YOU, at any rate, shall not be lost."

"What do you mean?" exclaimed Mme. de Bargeton.

"I can see plainly that you love Lucien," he continued, with an air
of tender resignation. "You must love indeed if _you_ can act thus
recklessly, and disregard the conventions which you know so well. Dear
adored Nais, can you really imagine that Mme. d'Espard's salon, or any
other salon in Paris, will not be closed to you as soon as it is
known that you have fled from Angouleme, as it were, with a young man,
especially after the duel between M. de Bargeton and M. de Chandour? The
fact that your husband has gone to the Escarbas looks like a separation.
Under such circumstances a gentleman fights first and afterwards leaves
his wife at liberty. By all means, give M. de Rubempre your love and
your countenance; do just as you please; but you must not live in
the same house. If anybody here in Paris knew that you had traveled
together, the whole world that you have a mind to see would point the
finger at you.

"And, Nais, do not make these sacrifices for a young man whom you have
as yet compared with no one else; he, on his side, has been put to no
proof; he may forsake you for some Parisienne, better able, as he may
fancy, to further his ambitions. I mean no ha